Some words

Sometimes life happens and you feel yourself get swept away in the tide of everyday activities and interactions. You see the crash and fall of the waves, but sometimes you don’t feel them like you naturally would. Something’s on your mind. Your thoughts can’t help but wander. Where do they wander? Is it to thoughts of a significant other? A new romantic interest? Is it that old flame that still burns and singes your soul? Is it wandering to thoughts of finding that thing called love that everyone talks so fondly about? They wander everywhere. Currently stuck on the beautiful idea of a twin flame. “What is a twin flame?” It is a concept that can give you hope or break you down entirely. To those who haven’t found a remarkable spark with anyone, the idea that a greater connection and love brings happiness to them—also alluding to the fact that they haven’t lost their shot yet. Some have love and lost— sometimes they just so happen to lose their twin flame. How would they lose it if it is an even stronger bond/ connection/ passion than a soulmate, you ask? Well you never truly lose it— it becomes unavailable, unattainable, too difficult to hold onto. Not every lost twin flame is gone forever, but sometimes it appears that way. It all comes down to the two individuals who share that connection. Are you stubborn? Are you foolish enough to let your twin flame walk even farther out of your life while you’re settling for a lesser passion? Are you scared? Are you too blind to see that you’re losing them day by day? Are you too heartbroken to give it another shot? If so, you might just lose them. It is a little difficult to continue to try when the odds are against you. History is made, and sometimes bridges are burned. Sometimes those pained goodbyes are final. It’s not because neither of you feel anything for each other anymore— you might feel everything, but you’ll never tell…

The other day I watched a movie that portrayed this kind of connection. They broke up because it was necessary, not because the love had faded. It never faded, even after 20 years of being apart. They still thought of one another after all of that time had passed. When they saw each other after all of those years, the connection, the passion, the yearning for one another still remained. It’s not the conversations they had, or the things that they shared in common, or the things they knew about one another. It was the need to be next to one another, with no clear reason. It is the desire to see and talk to that soul, because it is the only one yours finds effortless comfort with. They craved each other’s bodies– not because their bodies were perfectly toned and proportioned, but because that body belonged to the soul they couldn’t bare to live without.

Of course the movie didn’t end well…. I just so happened to conveniently remember towards the end, that the writer of the story is notorious for creating sad movies involving deaths to induce tears and despair in the viewer.

Forced appreciation 

Today is supposed to be a day of appreciation. We’re meant to express gratitude towards our fathers for all that they have done. We have the same exact kind of holiday for mothers, so neither goes unnoticed, and neither receives unequal praise and thanks for what they have done. I know providing for your children is an amazing thing all in its own, but I believe there’s more to being a parent. When I think of why I love those that I love, it’s not for material possessions they have provided me. I appreciate the fact that I live comfortably, that there’s food on the table, that I live in a house fully equipped with all the amazing comforts I’m fortunate to have. Though I don’t love these things. I could be happy living in the smallest house, with just a comfy blanket and bed to lay on, and two amazing role models (parents) by my side. So honestly, if push came to shove and I had to cutback on how I live, it wouldn’t bother me. I live for relationships, experiences, and for the opportunity to explore and apprecatiate all of the nuances life has to offer, not for extravagant things or simply a big house. 

Being a father is much more than the money you all bring home, I hope you know that. The post I recently wrote, titled “love” describes exactly what I believe being a father truly entails. Yes you can go to your 9-5 job or whatever job you have, but that job isn’t the one that earns the love from your child. It’s the job of being a father to your children that deserves and earns that love from that little human being. Being the leader, the protector, the gentle giant that they can look up to, the level headed arguer who would also never raises his voice at his little babies, who deals with matters rationally, who is not quick to temper, who facilitates a calm, loving, fear free home for his children to rest. That’s a father. 

I think men have lost what it means to be a father. Some fathers get offended when mom is the first person their child thinks to call for when they get scared, sad, upset, or need advice. Though if you think about it, the moms have earned this priority. The children don’t instinctually reach out to their mom simply because she’s their mom and they simply believe moms are the first parent to go to. They go to her because she has spent the time to care for them since they were just a little baby. Moms have the luxury of staying at home typically, for a few months or years, and naturally get more time to bond with the child. Though there’s more to it. Many times, our mothers don’t get stern and cold when upset at us, they use a motherly-authoritative tone when dealing with us. They also ask the things that fathers never dare to. They ask you if you have crushes, and they are genuinely curious. Typically it’s not simply so they can monopolize your time so you’re not near the opposite sex. They have conversations with you. Real conversations. They know your likes and dislikes. When the dad goes away and it’s just the kids, or just the daughters, or just the sons home with mom, she makes it fun. The occasion calls for a movie night, with popcorn, or ice cream, or simply a good discussion of the movie after it’s finished.  

Now I’m not saying all dads don’t do those things, or have that bond, but personally I’ve never experienced it.

If I were to say which parent understands me the best though, I’d have to say it’s my mom. Sure she has her moments of not-so-great-parenting, but she knows when she’s made a mistake, and she appalogizes. And the fact that she truly gets me makes up for all of those times.

Though I love my dad, I don’t share the same bond. I’d be heartbroken if he were gone, but I wouldn’t feel the same void that I would if it was my mom who was gone. 

I have fond memory’s of him when I was younger, but even then it was still off. My dad knows what truly comprises me just as much as a stranger would. It’s saddening, but it’s true. 

Today I really wish I could be more appreciative, write something more heartfelt in that darn card, but I can’t muster that kind of false praise. I could write the longest paragraph in that stupid thing, but it would all feel like lies. You have your good days, but your bad days diminish them. You don’t get me. You’d take that card to heart, possibly even cry because it “touched you so much” and maybe I’d cry too, because you don’t even know who I am. You don’t have the sense to realize I’ve never felt more disconnected. Maybe, just maybe, I’ll write a kickass card, and it will make you smile, make you feel loved, but it’s not real. 

I’m sorry. 

Filters 

A while back, I thought about how we all view each other and the world from our eyes, but the image is masked by our own personal filter. Like on an Instagram picture, you can increase or decrease an image’s beauty based on the filter you use, and sometimes a filter is unnecessary. Let’s discuss those images that unluckily get stuck with the wrong filter. We are the pictures, how others view us are the filters. Sometimes we can determine an initial filter that we hope to present, but these filters find themselves altered by those around us. The beauty that is hidden with the wrong filter can be monumental. For example, say there was this wonderful person. They’re vibrant, bubbly, flirtatious, and a bit sarcastic at times (but only in good fun). There’s the overwhelmed filter: the way someone would view this person, because they don’t enjoy the energy they bring, and feel it disrupts the peace. Then we have the insecure filter: this perception is a result of the person feeling as though any random sentence spoken is directly targeted at them in a negative way, all of the time. Then we have the jealous filter: this one results from envying this person’s ability to attract attention and admiration. Then we have the no filter option: the person is seen for exactly who they are. Then there is the magnified filter: this view comes from a deep admiration for the person. They accept them for who they are, and go beyond even that, by appreciating these characteristics for the personality they comprise.Typically the filters we have for viewing others are a reflection of our best and worst qualities. If we’re insecure, we are unnecessarily hateful. If we’re sad, we’re negative, or apathetic. If we’re too analytical, we see the world from a clinical kind of perspective. If we’re content, we see people for who they are. If we’re high on life, we see the beautiful traits in others, and celebrate the unique qualities they possess. These aren’t only ways we view people, but also how we view our own lives and the things that surround us.

So take a moment next time you sense you’re being overly negative about another person, and contemplate whether or not that same filter is the one you use to view your life.

Love

You find yourself more in love than you ever thought possible. There she lays, in your arms, perfect in every way. Every fiber of your being reacts in an instant to the reception of this precious little gift. She is your baby girl. You immediately acknowledge how fragile this little human is. In that moment, you vow to yourself right then and there, that you will do all you can to ensure that she is treated with the utmost care. She is a reflection of the love shared the night she was created. She is the product of the 9 months of cautious nurture and care of the beautiful womb that carried her. You felt this gorgeous baby’s kicks at night as your wife lay fast asleep. You anticipated her arrival, picturing how this new presence would change your entire world. What would this little bundle of joy look like? Smell like? Sound like? Interact like? Would she have you smile? Your eyes? Would you see a glimpse of yourself in her as her eyes sparkled with glee each time she saw your face reappear in a simple game of peek-a-boo? Many questions flooded your mind at night. Now everything has stilled, and the only question you have is right in front of you: “how will you let this precious child know everyday, without a doubt in her mind, that her daddy loves her?”

Days, weeks, months, years go by, and you see her grow up. She is everything you could have wished for and more. It’s not exactly what she’s done, or said, but in a way, it’s all of that. It’s the perfect imperfection of this little girl, the glimpses of you and your wife in this unique individual. Her smile radiates through the room. She has your blue eyes, she has your wife’s chestnut hair. When she wants something, she imitates your old puppy dog eyes that you used to use on your own parents– sometimes even on your wife as well (in a joking manner). She has an infectious giggle that brings a smile to your face every time you hear it.

One day she comes home from high school, and she tells you she met a boy. The smile on her face gives you the impression that this boy isn’t all that bad for her. You give her a light-hearted mock interrogation anyway, and ask her “does he make you happy?” “does he treat you right?” “is there really a guy out there perfect enough for my little girl?” Then you mention one last thing: “make sure that if he ever treats you any less than you deserve, you walk away, because you’re the most precious gift anyone ever could receive and he sure as hell better know that.” That night, thoughts race through your mind. You remember her first words, the tears you kissed away when she fell down and scraped her knee for the first time, the pride you had when she finally learned how to ride a bike without training wheels, the times you’d come in the kitchen and find her and your wife baking cookies, her first day of school. It all felt like it was just yesterday. Now she’s going on her first date. Your little girl has acknowledged the opposite sex in a new way. She no longer sees these boys as friends anymore. There is the potential that one of these days, she may even kiss one of these boys. That thought is tough to handle. This is your baby, the one you held in your arms. You face the fact that your little girl is now a sexual being, but with that comes primal intentions. How do you know this young boy will treat your daughter right, when all of his urges arise from such an primal place. Will he be able to control himself? On the other hand… will your little girl want him to control himself? A first kiss is enough to think about, but then there is so much more that could follow. Your sweet little baby’s body is seen as a sexual object now. Guys want to touch her and she wants to touch them too. Your darling’s sweet little hands and mouth may go places that would make you cringe. Picturing these things makes you sick. She’s your baby. The little girl that is only meant to be held by your loving, fatherly hands. It was only days ago that she was too small, to young, to walk on her own. So you held her in your arms for hours, staring at that spectacular little face. Your love for her was unconditional from the start, and will remain so until the end. You think of how the guys she will encounter won’t see her in the same light you have. Their love for her, if even love, won’t be unconditional for sure. Some will expect things of her. Some things you don’t even want to think about. The thoughts are put on pause, because you realize you’ll go crazy if you continue to let them ruminate.

So more days, weeks, months, years go by. Your little girl is officially a sexual being now (not that she wasn’t in the first place). There are many things that have happened that she hasn’t told you. She’s had her first kiss, she has experienced much more than that…, and she has gone through heartbreak. Guys have treated her with disrespect– she walked away just like you told her to— though sometimes she didn’t acknowledge it soon enough. The first boy to see your little angel’s unclothed, uncovered, innocent, bare body, trivialized it by jerking off to porn the following night. That boy that gave her her first kiss also gave her her first heartbreak when he cheated on her with a sexy cheerleader while he was intoxicated at a high school party. She dated the nice guys, the good guys, the losers, the jerks, the jocks. She also found the love of her life along the way, who treats her well, loves her in every way possible, and brings out the best in her every day. He’s the boy she’s bringing to thanksgiving when she comes home during the break. Little do you know, he’s the one. He encapsulates everything you could have ever wished for in a man that would hold your daughters heart.

Now don’t feel too relieved, there was another who almost won her heart before she fell for your new potential son-in-law. With this other man, things appeared to be perfectly fine. He was successful and had a fairly good income. He knew that this beautiful girl was too good for him. Yet when a problem would arise, he would blame her, he’d go into denial and would never apologize for his actions. Sometimes he would apologize— but only when it benefited him. If they would have married, he would have barked the words “get out of MY house” when he was frustrated. He would say things to tear her down, not build her up. Any accomplishment of hers would be overlooked. When enraged, he’d bring fear into your little girl’s heart. She would run to the closest room and lock herself inside until he had calmed down. He’s the one who would have stormed out of the house at  2 am in the morning, slamming the door behind him, screeching the car tires as he peeled out of the drive way. He would have been the one to bring doubt, fear, and sadness to your little girl’s heart those nights, making her ask why she deserved this treatment.

No one “deserves” to be treated that way. In this alternate ending, your little girl just found herself in a bad situation. Could you have imagined though, the heartache you would have felt for your little girl if it had gone that way? Wouldn’t you have wanted to walk straight up to that evil man and look him right in the eye and tell him off? Tell him he doesn’t deserve someone as amazing and precious as your little girl?

What if I told you there is a simple way to make sure that this never happens to your daughter/ future daughter? No one would ever break the heart of your bundle of joy, and it involves only one simple task: Treat everyone else’s baby girls with care. That woman you slept with tonight, that girl you’ve been planning to bang, the girl you cheated on when you were younger, the girl you only intend to sleep with. All of them are someone’s baby girl. Treat them as so. If not, how would you ever expect someone else to treat your’s with the utmost care?

Nipple play (aka some weird thoughts…)

By the title you probably instantly pictured boobs. Well for the moment, it’s about pecs. That’s right, male nipples. To be exact: male nipple piercings.They’ve fascinated me for a while, but I never figured out why until just now. For men to have any stimulation to their nipples, whether pleasurable or painful, is kind of taboo. Jewelry in the first place, has mainly been for women. And things such as tongue rings, nipple rings, and belly button rings have been viewed as erotic on women. Now I’m not sure of their purposes all too well, so I’m only guessing on this aspect. As far as tongue rings go, if you don’t instantly picture it involved in using your tongue for something such as I don’t know… A blow job… You’ve probably been living in a cave. Now that I think about it, it could also be useful for trailing a tongue along some nice six pack abs (that is if the metal is cold, cause then it could evoke quite a reaction). Also, maybe it would provide a little extra excitement when kissing. As far as nipple piercings go, I’d guess it’s for the aesthetics, and possibly the sensation received by the giver of nipple play (involving mouth and tongue, possibly a little nibbling). Now for the belly button ring- it’s mainly aesthetics with this one, but could also have the same results as the nipple piercings.

Initially thinking of all of these piercings, I would never imagine a guy would ever desire to have any of them. So far in my life, I’ve never seen a belly button ring on a guy. However, I’ve seen the other two piercings on guys.

There was this one homosexual male, who had a tongue ring- it made a lot of sense. I saw a guy on the beach one time with nipple piercings for the first time, a few years ago. Just recently I saw that perplexing piercing (nipple piercing) on another guy.

Now in general, nipple piercings could be broken down as a symbol of how much pain you can endure, so in a way, that aspect could be viewed as masculine. Then there is the other aspect… It’s on your nipples, the one place all of you guys tend to shy away from, when your girl is pleasuring you. Although, I did watch this one show, that showed a guy getting some nipple play, from a girl, and he seemed to enjoy receiving it (just so you know, this guy didn’t happen to have nipple piercings). My only question really is: do these random buff, macho guys that I see with nipple piercings, also enjoy the nipple play? I mean what is the function for nipple piercings otherwise? I think it may serve as a window to male sexuality, that’s displayed in plain sight. Not necessarily that they are gay, but rather, that they indulge in a kink not explored by many other men.

I don’t necessarily think that if a guy doesn’t get nipple piercings, or is too uncomfortable receiving pleasure there, that he’s wrong in any way for deciding to be that way. On the other hand though, I think these guys who enjoy getting those piercings and feeling the sensations as the receiving end, have discovered a wonderful thing for themselves. As a girl, I know it’s a pleasurable sensation, so I would feel bad if a guy simply refused to receive it because he thought it was a girl thing- all people can find pleasure within this wonderful thing we call nipple play.

A letter for my thoughts

I’d like to begin by letting you all know that the posts I’ve written thus far have been about many people, some platonic, some romantic. Sometimes it’s fictitious, or at least I attempt to convince myself that. Though I’m a one-guy girl when I get into relationships, I may write about many guys (not always because of a romantic interest in them). I write about the people I’m thinking about, or who’s presence in my thoughts is influencing my emotions, in a good or bad way. I never mention names, and though there is a name in mind, I’m writing about whatever it is, for myself, not for any of the people to ever read it. So, I’ll let you all know now, it’s not solely dedicated to writing letters to anyone in particular. But back to what I was saying–Whether they’re good or bad feelings, I’m going to write them on a page to release and experience them. Though there are some times when I write about an ideal or the polar opposite, and though it could apply to a guy I know, I may not have made that connection with my thoughts yet. So when attempting to decipher who the letter posts I write are to, your guess is as good as mine.
….when I stare across a room into your eyes, I feel at home. It provides me comfort, as well as serving to intrigue me. You have a soft biting sparkle to your eyes. Conversing with you feels as though each response is a challenge, which is a very addictive quality; who would back down from a challenge?

Sometimes when our hearts are yearning, we remember/ desire the things that stimulate our senses, or remind us of a mutual passion shared between us and a lover. For me, it’s your soft curls. Grasping onto them, while you gaze into my eyes with desire. It feels as though we’ve found our own world in this moment. I crave your lips on mine. One look can lead my mind to believe something so pleasurable is forbidden. Well that just serves to make it even more enticing…

When I picture arousal, it doesn’t remain within a particular constraint. The standard for intensity has been raised. Many may think of my desires as twisted, I look at them as a form of release and a higher feeling.

Normally, a bland, superficial, vacuous setting, no matter how sexually charged, bores me (so basically, dinner and a movie, a party, or any setting that would lead me to see that you lack that one quality I’m looking for). You could be the hottest guy in the world, and I may end up feeling as though I could derive more pleasure from eating an apple (the fruit, just the fruit. Don’t get any ideas. It’s simply a word to infer that the pleasure is mundane).

All encompassing, passionate, dominant, loving, caring, lustful, compassionate, and uniquely yourself. That’s what captures my interest. If you poses these qualities, you are a sexy human being, and you should definitely continue doing things how you are, because it’s magnetic. You’re captivating. Well that is, at least to me.
You see, I write some of these things in present tense, because in my memory, that’s what it feels like. I know the difference between the past and the present, but for the purposes of this entry, it will remain present.
Part 2-
The other day I was asked why I listen to sad music. I understand the trend is to listen to upbeat, uplifting music, produced by a singer who appears to lead the perfect, most glamorous life. That simply doesn’t appeal to me. I can see why people don’t want to listen to my current obsession’s music.

Let me clarify one thing before I go on: no music is the best music. Yes, the musician that just came to your mind that you were prepared to vehemently defend as the best is good to you, but is it good to everyone? Although maybe that’s not how you classify/assess the level of perfection a musician is at.

Is it content (the story of the song). Does this mean it all has to be philosophical, progressive messages, uplifting lyrics? Or can it be about heartbreak and the simple things we all go through in life, that seem to affect us the most, possibly even more than all of the higher thinking?

Or is it the use of different affects, beats, and overall composition of the music that comprises the overall sound?

Is it the level of vocal skills that a musician demonstrates that determines the skill? Or is it also mixed with the passion and emotion they are able to convey when they sing their song?

If you say all of these things comprise a good song, then I agree. If you simply state that it’s all about a formula that it takes to set up a song’s beat, tied in with a very talented voice, you’ve just stripped music of its entire meaning.

Personally I would like to believe that music should be rated on how deeply it evokes a reaction within us, when we hear it. This tends to lend itself to no universally perfect music. Like I mentioned in “what does music mean to you?” how no one has the same definition of perfection, but to someone you’re perfect, and the same applies to music. Most songs don’t affect every single individual that listens to them, the same way.

With that definition being laid out there, I’m going to continue. Yet again, I’m listening to Abel Tesfaye (the weeknd). Right now my mind craves this music. It appeals to all of my senses, and I feel that I can resonate with his music.

Maybe he’s not the best. However, I don’t care. Honestly, I would like to request you all do a full evaluation of all of his songs, not just the mainstream ones that give him a bad rep, before we talk further on his skill level.
Yes, the claws are coming out because I’m in my Abel bubble at the moment. I have his music blasting with the windows down, feeling the beautiful wind breeze past me (someone else is driving the car I’m in).

With that being said, the claws aren’t really out, but I will continue with my current addiction, because it’s what I need/ want right now.

My own personal honesty outlet

Many of you have possibly noticed that I talk a lot about my feelings and emotions in my posts, sometimes to ridiculous extents. It is because I view my blog as something to be even realer and rawer than a personal journal. When I write about my negative, positive, or ambivalent thoughts, I’m sharing them to release them and feel them, not to deny them. When I mention people who I’ve come into contact with, that may have rubbed me the wrong way, blogging about it is an instinct, second to telling them how I felt. Now many of you may instantly assume it is because I wish to slander them, but it honestly is nothing close to that. When you share things in a public setting like a blog, you allow others to comment and correct you if you are wrong. Putting my thoughts out there is my way of asking the world to give me their feedback. If I write about an instance in which someone did something to offend me, I could be totally overreacting, I could be missing a perspective that would give me proper insight into their actions towards me. I don’t paint myself, nor those who I write about in a false light, I show us for exactly who we are. I don’t embellish, and in fact, I try to decipher what could have led to their actions towards me, or others around me. With that being said, I also write about the experiences that sting to think about, because although they’re not pleasant, they are a part of me. All of my thoughts and experiences are here for me to judge as well, but also to accept them, rather than regret them.

Now although I write these things with the expectation that there could be negative and positive feedback for consideration, I would also like to let you all know this: I will take every comment on my actions/ thoughts into consideration, but that won’t always lead to me changing who I am at the core. Though I tend to prefer seeing things from all sides, there are certain things that though I can imagine the reasoning of the opposing perspective, I choose to take the other side. Now I take this approach knowing very well that everyone around me may choose to do the same when taking sides on an issue, and we may not always agree. Like I said in my post “Pick and choose I will,” I don’t think anyone has the perfect formula of perspectives, morals, and rules for life. I don’t think it’s possible to narrow it down to a specific set of beliefs, because we are all such unique individuals. So I expect dissonance with others, when it comes to thoughts and beliefs about certain things.

I’ll give you a little insight into why I’m opposed to specific things. My opposition is spurred when the other side possesses any of these core qualities: inequality, dishonesty, deceit, spite, hate, insecurity, greed, fear, control, ignorance, disrespect, promiscuity, superficiality, narcissism, etc.

Though, when I don’t agree with someone on something they believe/ do that goes against these things, I don’t judge or attempt to tell them to discontinue living with those beliefs, I just tell them my perspective on it, and whether or not they choose to change their ways, or enlighten me as to how it doesn’t possess those qualities I mentioned above, is up to them. Don’t get me wrong on one thing: I will consider shifting my view on something if convinced thoroughly, but typically I’ve already considered the arguments given on each issue I have taken one side on. I can be friends with people who have opposing beliefs, but I can’t always be as close to them as they may wish. I used to know a Scorpio as you all know. Let me tell you a few things about this Scorpio. He smoked weed daily for about two years (before I knew him. He smoked infrequently by the time I knew him, but it was apparent that he had smoked heavily in the past), dabbled with other drugs, cussed, skateboarded, liked physics, had a crush on me (at one point he told me he loved me. I’ll be elaborating on that later in this post), didn’t really respect authority, and was a very deep thinking individual.

To anyone who knows me very well, it was both perplexing, yet understandable as to why he and I, despite our intrinsic differences, connected and understood one another as much as we did. We were both very honest with one another from the start, about anything to do with our past, or what we were going through at the time (good or bad). It was the deepest friendship I’ve ever had with anyone, boyfriends included. Now many of you may ask “why didn’t it ever progress into something romantic, if you two connected as much as you say?” Well that’s the reason I’ve included this elaboration of that friendship in this particular post. This is to show you how I got extremely close to someone who I didn’t share some core beliefs with.

Though I appear to promote a bit of rebellion in my posts, I don’t display that rebellion through my actions in the way you’d expect. I’ve never experimented with drugs in the slightest, I’ve had alcohol once in my life (whiskey in some coffee in Ireland), I don’t smoke, and I’ve never done anything illegal.

My reasons for not smoking, drinking, or doing drugs is mainly based on the fact that they are illegal, but also beyond that one element. None of these things improve your body, for the most part, they only degrade it (ok, maybe medical marijuana can help people, and perhaps a glass of red wine a day is good for your health). These things also lend themselves to becoming addictions. Yes, I know that people can become addicted to unhealthy foods, and caffeine just the same, but people have chosen to cut even these legal addictions out of their lives.

It’s not simply the laws that cause me to be opposed to drugs, smoking, and drinking. It’s the dependency, and disregard that can come along with it. Many people can look at an overweight person and recognize that their reliance on food to make them feel better is unhealthy, but it’s not always as easy for the smoker, stoner, or alcoholic to use the same logic when viewing their addiction. They claim it relieves stress (which I don’t doubt), and that they have control over their need for it. The difference between food and caffeine versus the other addictions, is that they don’t affect those around you. When you smoke around others, you expose them to secondhand smoke. When you’re stoned, you expose them to an altered version of you. When you’re wasted, you expose others to an uninhibited, unpredictable you.

When I’m with someone, I want to be with them, not a drugged up, boozed up version of them. This Scorpio friend of mine didn’t ever seem to be high around me, but the thing that unnerved me was that I didn’t have any way to tell since the way his eyes were held, the way he spoke, and his body language, were all slightly altered from his stoner days, so it was impossible to tell. Let alone the fact that I have never been high myself, nor have I been around many high people since it truly isn’t my scene, so I didn’t know the signs of someone being high very well.

The true issue was that even though he and I understood each other very well, he didn’t see those differences in beliefs as a problem, when I did. I can see how he didn’t have a problem with it though, because he didn’t care if I was a stoner type, and he actually seemed to be attracted to me even though in retrospect, I embodied the polar opposite of his lifestyle.

Like I said in my last post about him though, he found a girl that is like him, which to me seems like the far better option. Yes it may suck that things don’t work out romantically with some people because we have different value sets, but I think in a way it protects the connection from being tainted by the results of a failed relationship that could have been prevented. In his last text/ letter to me, he said he still loved me. Now many of you may not understand how someone could love a person they have never been romantically involved with in a romantic way, but in this situation, even though things never progressed farther than friendship, I can see how it is possible since we shared an intimacy that was deeper than some people who date one another.

If you do drugs, smoke, drink, sleep around, or have a belief that possess the qualities I mentioned above, you most likely won’t have my heart or my body, but you will have my friendship. I may even write about you on my blog (don’t worry, I’ll be nice). I will always have a spot in my heart for the ones I connected with, but didn’t share a romantic relationship with, but they’ll always remain at a loving arms length.